


Sans Arrêt

by CoralFlowerBad (CoralFlower)



Series: Sans Titre [2]
Category: Undertale
Genre: Frisk flirts with Sans but Sans is just So Done, Gen, It stands alone but you should read the rest of the series anyway, Non-Binary Frisk, Popsicles are had, Referenced Time Shenanigans, Sans puts ketchup on his, Supposed to be amusing, This is part of a continuity free series of one-shots, Totally Done With Time Shenanigans Sans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5537618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoralFlower/pseuds/CoralFlowerBad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Not a kid. Humans adult at eighteen." Sans feels his eyebrows pull together in consterntation. C'mon kiddo, get to the point.</p><p>They unwrap the popsicle and send a smirk his way that leaves him feeling, on the whole, extremely unsettled. Their tongue flicks out and licks tentatively at the tip of it, and he can feel the confusion plain on his face.</p><p>And then, as the human wraps their lips around the tip of the popsicle and starts pushing it further into their mouth, it hits him. His teeth click audibly, and his eyes flicker black.</p><p>The popsicle is the exact color of his magic.</p><p><strong>*</strong> are you... tryin' to seduce me, kid?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sans Arrêt

**Author's Note:**

> The title means nonstop in french

The sky sings above the ground. Below the ground, the ceiling of the underground shines. Water percolates through cracks in the rock, dripping down the walls of the vast, cavernous expanse that is Waterfall. Occasionally, a drop of water falls and lands on one of the roofs with a ringing sound that sounds through the entire settlement. Each roof harmonizes in a chord that is instantly recognisable to anyone who has heard it before, and in certain subcaverns, the constructive and destructive interference works out just so, and a faint tune can be heard. Megalodic-- true and haunting; the kind of song that makes you feel like your entire life has been a Bad Time, like your troubles will continue to be Undying.

A certain roof, however, just produces a dull _tlick_ -ing noise whenever a drop of water hits it. Beneath this roof sits a skeleton, feet on his counter, eyes closed. A tomato-shaped kitchen timer counts down next to him. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Rrrrrrrrring. The skeleton's eyes flicker open. He takes his feet off the counter and switches the scientific instruments out for condiments. Mustard replaces a gasterometer, named for the one who discovered what it measures. Ketchup replaces a core emulator, hooked up to the skeleton's wrist, named for that which it emulates.

Sans disconnects the tomato timer from the gasterometer and stows both in his hoodie pocket. Neither should have been able to fit. He detatches the metal electrodes of the core emulator from his carpal bones and sighs as the drain on his magic stops. He might be sort of playing with fire here, but just the fact that he's crazy, reckless, resigned enough to do so doesn't mean he has to enjoy it.

Thirty seconds later, a human enters the subcavern, a box of blue popsicles held in their hands. The skeleton twitches. What is this? Where did they even get those? Did they LOAD a save from before they fell just to bring popsicles down here? That would explain the not previously decoded time marker for the last anomaly. What was the point of that?

At this point, Sans is really so, so done with the human's antics. They know he'll respond differently, though, if they change even the slightest things. They explained it to him once, early on.

The human sets the box of popsicles down on his counter without asking first. A drop of water _tlick_ s onto their head. Out of their pocket, they pull a sweater. The left half is pink, and the right is blue. They pull off their striped sweater, in front of Sans, and put on the other.

 ***** ...what are you tryin' to say, kid?

They reach out and knock over his ketchup bottle. Sans squints at them confusedly. They stomp their foot, and point at his hoodie pocket. Sans freezes.

 ***** i'm not sure what you're sayin', he attempts. The human just looks at him completely deadpan, and pouts, concluding that, yes, they are going to have to say things to communicate what they want.

"Age. Total. Of soul." Their voice cracks twice. Sans is now utterly bemused.

 ***** what?

"You _know_. Measure. Fast." Sans sighs and LeVels an unreadable stare at them.

 ***** okay.

He reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls out the gasterometer and the core emulator, along with a keyboard and a small monitor. As he hooks the electrodes of the core emulator back up to his carpals and resigns himself to more of that incessant drain on his magic, he wonders why exactly the human wants him to measure how old their soul is. They can't have racked up more than a month or so of time with these resets, could they? It has been a while though. Probably around ten months. Better not tell them just how much of his energy this will sap, then. He plugs in the monitor and keyboard to ports on the gasterometer, and connects it to the core emulator. The drain on his magic starts back up again and doubles when he turns on the monitor. He sways in place and dizzily hopes the human doesn't notice and that he can focus on what he's doing with this heavy of a drain... what was he doing? Oh, right, measuring the total age of the human's soul.

The human is looking at him funny. They reach out and shove him gently, and he trips over his own feet and staggers against the wet wall of the cavern. Now the side of his hoodie sleeve is a shade darker than the rest of it.

 ***** c'mon, kid, the shorter this takes, the better for both of us. if i pass out, unplug me, kapiche?

Welp, there he goes, telling the human he might pass out. He needs to just get this over with and unplug. He struggles to his feet, turns to the keyboard, and lets his distal phalanges fly over the keys. The drain on his magic hikes up again and he lets out a ragged gasp as his sight blanks out; the fan on the gasterometer starts up. And then a set of numbers pops up on the screen, and the gasterometer lets out a chime. He unplugs immediately, hurriedly, and accidentally knocks one of his carpals slightly out of place. The pain makes him dizzy again for a moment and then reduces to a powerful throbbing. He braces himself and pushes it back into place, closing his eyes at the sharp spike of pain that captures his focus for a full four seconds. When he opens them again, his sight is working fine, but the numbers on the screen almost make him doubt that.

 ***** ...eighteen years? and exactly seven minutes, apparently. you've been keeping count.

They nod, proudly, and begin opening the popsicle box.

 ***** but uh, kid...

They look back up at him.

 ***** why does that matter?

They begin to push out their lower lip as they pull out a popsicle, then reconsider and tilt their head disapprovingly because it seems more mature.

"Not a kid. Humans adult at eighteen." Sans feels his eyebrows pull together in consterntation. C'mon kiddo, get to the point.

They unwrap the popsicle and send a smirk his way that leaves him feeling, on the whole, extremely unsettled. Their tongue flicks out and licks tentatively at the tip of it, and he can feel the confusion plain on his face.

And then, as the human wraps their lips around the tip of the popsicle and starts pushing it further into their mouth, it hits him. His teeth click audibly, and his eyes flicker black.

The popsicle is the exact color of his magic.

 ***** are you... tryin' to seduce me, kid?

They hesitate, and their face flushes. Wait, are they actually embarrassed? Was this not just supposed to get a ridiculous reaction from him? Does that mean they actually have a crush on him? They get that look on their face, where he can tell they're considering just LOADing. Even though he'll remember, and they know that. It still technically didn't happen. He wonders what they'll do with the box of popsicles if they LOAD.

 ***** hey, wait.

They look up at him.

 ***** i'm not judging, kid. after all, i am...

The look on their face is a cross between dread and a put out pout.

 ***** drop dead gorgeous.

"Not even dead."

 ***** c'mon, that was great.

They shake their head, but it's clear they're no longer considering loading. He notices the popsicle is melting and dripping down their wrist into the sleeve of that new sweater, and hands them some napkins.

 ***** careful, it's melting. and, uh... can i have one?

They sigh, and hand him a popsicle. He puts ketchup on it. They giggle. He grins.


End file.
